


The Bet

by crochetaway



Series: Drabbles and OneShots [125]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: Newly divorced Hermione runs into widower Lucius at the annual Hogwarts gala where one thing leads to another.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Series: Drabbles and OneShots [125]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/627092
Comments: 13
Kudos: 223
Collections: Strictly Lumione Back to Hogwarts Fic Fest





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: Thanks to the lovely Fae Orabel for betaing this story! If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! You can find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**
> 
> **Thanks to the modmins at Strictly Lumione for hosting this fest! This was a really fun one to write!**

_**** _

* * *

_**Hogwarts Alumni Association** _

_Cordially invites you to the Annual Fundraising Gala!_

_Come support your alma mater._

_Spend a few Galleons on our silent auction._

_All proceeds go to Hogwarts._

_*One of our special funds this year will be to help the Hogwarts Quidditch teams afford the latest series of racing brooms._

Hermione looked over the invitation that had arrived that morning by owl. She laughed at the note at the bottom of the invitation. Rose and Hugo both complained about the school brooms some of their teammates had to use for Quidditch. They would be happy to see that new brooms were slated to be purchased this year.

Normally, she attended the yearly Fundraising Gala with Ron, but that wouldn’t be happening this year. Their divorce was finalised back in January. Now, it was a month before school was due to begin, and the gala was right around the corner. She wondered if Ron planned to attend with his new girlfriend. He’d dumped Lavender a month after the divorce became finalised, surprising both Hermione _and_ Lavender. Judging by the way Lavender had stomped through Diagon Alley after the dumping, and the two-page spread _Witch Weekly_ had done. Not that Hermione was keeping tabs on her ex and his love life. But their stardom had never faded from the second wizarding war all those years ago, and Ron’s love life was frequently splattered on the pages of the tabloids after word of their divorce hit those same pages.

She sighed, her love life, on the other hand, was practically white bread in comparison. She hadn’t gone on a single date in the eight months since she’d been single. And it wasn’t for lack of trying or availability. She would love to go on a date with someone. Anyone. She was bored and tired of her lonely bed. There was a reason she decided it was time to move on from Ron, and it wasn’t just the fact that she suspected he had been sleeping with Lavender for the last year of their marriage. He denied it vehemently, but however fierce his denials, the need to be believed was exactly _why_ Hermione was sure he had been sleeping with her.

Shaking her head, she tossed the invitation onto the small pile of correspondence on the desk in her flat. She let Ron keep the house. She much preferred the flat she had in Diagon Alley, anyway. Especially with the kids both being in Hogwarts, she didn’t feel the need to have all that green space when she could be close to work and nightlife.

Maybe she could coax Ginny out for a shopping trip. The Fundraising Gala was the perfect excuse to find a to-die-for dress. She needed something to get her out of this dating slump, not that she was sure she would even find someone single _and_ looking to mingle at the gala, but she could hope, right? And if she did have a bombshell dress, well, then that only increased her odds.

* * *

Two weeks passed quickly, and Hermione nervously smoothed down the dress that Ginny had convinced her hit all of the right notes. It was a long-sleeved, off the shoulder black number sprinkled with gemstones that Ginny assured her would catch the right sort of eyes by glimmering under the candles in the Great Hall.

The gala had begun after the war in an effort to help with the rebuilding process, and it continued each year once the Hogwarts Board of Governors realised that not having to rely on the Ministry for funding was a good thing. Inevitably, the richest pure-blood families were the ones who made the biggest donations, and Harry also always made a sizable one. Hermione had begun making large donations each year after she and Ron bought their house.

The sleeves were mesh, showing just a hint of skin beneath them and the skirt ended two inches above her knee. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore something this short. She turned in the mirror and was relatively pleased to see the small pouch on her stomach was mostly obscured by the slight ruching of the dress. Her hair was down and long, the curls almost entirely tamed, although Ginny would call it her just-fucked look. _Perhaps if I look just-fucked someone will take pity on me and actually fuck me_ , she thought as she mussed her hair just a bit more. A girl could hope, anyway.

Snagging the invitation, Hermione smoothed down her dress one last time before tapping her wand to the cardstock and allowing the Portkey to whisk her away. She landed on the front steps of Hogwarts and would have stumbled had someone not grasped her elbow, steadying her.

“Thank you,” she said, turning to greet Lucius Malfoy of all people. He still held her elbow, and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as she realised that, for once, his hands weren’t in gloves. His skin was warm through the sheerness of her dress. His ice-blue eyes crinkled, although his mouth stayed in its typical hard line.

“Careful, Mrs Weasley,” he murmured. His voice was deep and dark, full of delicious promise as his gaze snagged on her lips. She’d painted them a deep red for the evening and just resisted the urge to flick her tongue out to lick them.

“It’s Granger again,” Hermione said. She forced herself to keep her gaze on his eyes, although it was hard-fought. She desperately wanted to slide her eyes down to see exactly what he was doing with that beautiful mouth of his.

“Is it now?” His voice dripped like honey into her ear, and she barely suppressed the shiver that went through her. A breeze lifted just then, and she blamed that for the reason her nipples hardened. Thankfully, her dress wasn’t sheer there or he would have something other than her mouth to be watching.

She licked her bottom lip, unable to help herself now, and saw his eyes widen fractionally.

“Hermione! Mr Malfoy, glad to see you’ve both arrived!” Headmistress McGonagall greeted them from the top of the stairs. Hermione tore herself away from the mesmerising Malfoy and turned to greet Minerva. Before she could get far, Lucius offered her his arm.

 _It would be rude to refuse_ , she justified to herself as she gladly slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. He placed his other hand on top of hers, and Hermione was sure a spark of electricity passed between them.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Minerva said, sweeping her arm wide, indicating they should head inside.

“Always a pleasure,” Lucius murmured as he led Hermione past the older witch. Hermione offered Minerva a smile as they sailed through the threshold. Lucius held onto her arm, and Hermione found herself looking up at him out of the corner of her eye. For a man who was a grandfather of a child her daughter’s age, he was still surprisingly fit.

His hair had very subtle silver streaks in it these days, though he kept it as long as he had it in her youth. There were a few more lines around the corners of his eyes along with deepening laugh lines, but other than that, he could be mistaken for a man twenty years his junior. The tilting of his mouth told her that he wasn’t unaware of her perusal, so she quickly turned her attention to the Great Hall, just as they were walking in.

The band was already playing, though no couples were dancing. Most were standing around the cocktail tables with drinks in hand, snagging the hors d'oeuvres from the trays carried around on the outstretched arms of house elves.

“Shall we?” Lucius gestured toward the bar set up along the left side wall where the Hufflepuff table usually was. Banners from each house decorated the hall with a huge Hogwarts crest hanging over the rose window behind the head table.

“Yes,” Hermione replied. It had been a long time since she had been on a man’s arm, and she found herself enjoying it. She should probably consider _why_ Lucius was playing the happy date, but perhaps he was just as lonely as she was? Narcissa had been gone for a long time now. She passed away not long after the war ended. In all those years, Hermione wasn’t sure she had ever seen Lucius linked romantically to anyone else. Not that she followed him in the gossip rags, but considering those same papers had plenty to say about her and her friends, she had kept up with them. That had come in handy a time or two when a grossly inaccurate story needed immediate retraction.

Now those same rags were beginning to report on their children, and Hermione found herself still buying them. No way was she going to let one of her children get smeared the way she had been when she was only a fourth year. So far, the articles had all been rather benign.

“Thank you,” Hermione said as Lucius handed her a glass of champagne. “I’m not sure I’ve seen you come to this in the last few years.”

“I haven’t,” he responded. “I’ve been spending more and more of my time in France. It was a coincidence that this year I was in England when the invitation arrived. The temptation to see my alma mater proved too much for me to pass up.”

“Hogwarts does bring back good memories,” Hermione said lightly. And it did, as long as she kept those memories to her more care-free years in school.

“Even for you?” Lucius asked. He peered at her over the rim of his champagne glass as they made their way to one of the last open standing cocktail tables.

“Only if I think about the early years,” Hermione admitted. “Anything fifth year and beyond is a little painful yet. Mostly when I compare my children’s experience with my own. Thank goodness theirs have been nothing like mine,” she said with a little laugh.

“Yes,” Lucius agreed. “One of my many regrets in life was not giving Draco better than I had.”

Hermione smiled softly at him. For all his faults, even Lucius Malfoy loved his son, just as any other parent loved their kids. That was admirable. And in the years since the war, Lucius had worked hard to repair not only his name, but the Malfoy name in general. Most of the funding for rebuilding Hogwarts coming from him—that was even after paying hefty war reparations and a stint in Azkaban.

“What do you do in France?” Hermione asked. She took a sip of champagne as she listened to him talk about his business conglomerate. Apparently Draco had taken no interest in taking over the family business and had opened a string of apothecaries instead.

“And you, Miss Granger? What is it you do?” Lucius snagged a tray of smoked salmon croque-monsieur for them to share. She was amused that he had taken the whole tray, but she supposed he donated enough money to the school that he could do what he liked.

“I’m Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, although I’m petitioning to change that title,” Hermione said, popping a piece of salmon in her mouth.

“Oh? And what would you change it to?” Lucius handed her a napkin, and Hermione smiled her thanks.

“Department of Magical Creature Cooperation. We don’t need to control or regulate most magical creatures. We need to work better with them, not subjugate them.”

“Even the goblins?”

Hermione laughed. “The goblins care about one thing, Lucius. Money, gold, silver, riches. That’s it. We already give them what they want by allowing them to be the bank. We can work with them instead of fighting against them.”

“I think perhaps you need to brush up on your history of the goblin wars. Binns covered it extensively when I was in school, if I recall.” Lucius frowned at her and looked like he thought her a bit mad.

It only served to make her laugh again. “You’re looking at this like a wizard,” she said with a smile.

“How else should I look at it?” Lucius replied.

“As an oppressed minority,” Hermione said. “The world only ever gets more progressive. It’s time the wizarding world learned that lesson, too. We can take our cues from the Muggle one and institute the policies that have worked for them to lessen oppression in our own community.”

“You think the goblins are oppressed?” He was looking incredulous now.

“How much have you kept up on what the DRCMC does?” Hermione asked, tilting her head to the side as she observed him. She knew he used to have his fingers in all the pots at the Ministry, but that changed after his second stint in Azkaban.

“Admittedly, not much.” He was frowning again. Even frowning, he was a very good looking man, and Hermione found their conversation to be refreshing.

“Then you probably don’t know that goblins in England are allowed wands,” she said with a smirk.

“WHAT?” he yelped so loud that several people at nearby tables turned to look at them. Unfortunately, that got the whisper mill started. Previously, nobody had been paying them much attention, but Hermione Granger and Lucius Malfoy having a conversation while drinking and eating together was still big news, even this many years after the war.

She bit her lip as he glowered at everyone who was looking at them until they turned away.

“It turns out, when you support oppressed minorities, rather than tear them down, they rather flourish,” Hermione said with a shrug. “Goblins just want to live like we do. We even have a few who have taken positions in the Ministry.”

Lucius shook his head, unbelieving. “You are setting us up for another bloody goblin war,” he warned.

“Want to make a bet on that?” Hermione asked. She wasn’t worried about a goblin war. She had studied the history in depth. The only reason there were so many of them in the past was because wizards liked to think they were masters of the universe and in charge of everybody and everything. Goblins just wanted a place in society, a real place, and Hermione was working on giving that to them.

“What are your terms?” Lucius asked, looking down his nose at her.

“How long do you think it would take the goblins to foment rebellion? Five years? Ten?”

“How long have they had wands?” Lucius countered.

“A little over two years,” Hermione said with a shrug.

“So long?” Lucius sounded surprised. “Why wasn’t it reported on in the press? I still keep up with the British papers.”

Hermione shrugged again. “It was, but I may have called in a few favours to have the sensationalism of it all toned down. It never appeared on the front page.”

“That is quite Slytherin of you,” Luciuse said with an approving grin. Hermione grinned back. “Fine, two years,” he replied.

“Alright and if you win the bet, what would you like?” Hermione asked.

“If I win the bet, we’ll have a war to fight,” Lucius replied darkly.

“You won’t, but if you do, what are your terms?”

“A favour,” Lucius said simply. “No conditions.”

“Eh, we need a few conditions,” Hermione replied. “Such as I’m not murdering anyone for you.”

“Alright, a legal favour,” Lucius replied. “And your terms?”

“The same,” Hermione said with a smile. They shook on it just as McGonagall tapped the microphone on the stage with her wand.

“The silent auction will begin now. All proceeds will go to updating the school's broom stock,” she said. A small cheer went up at that announcement.

“Shall we?” Lucius asked, holding out his arm once more for her.

This was starting to feel a bit like a date, and Hermione found that she didn’t hate it. In fact, she was enjoying herself immensely.

“Yes,” she looped her arm through his again, and he led them toward where the Ravenclaw table had been pushed against the wall at the far side of the room. Various items were laid upon it with a piece of parchment to write the bid on. Hermione and Lucius walked along the table and they each bid on a few items. Hermione on some luxury bath products as well as a case of elven made wine. Lucius also bid on that one, immediately after her, making her laugh.

“You’ll owe me a bottle if you win,” Hermione teased him.

“Perhaps,” he agreed with a small dip of his head, a smile playing about the corners of his lips.

Overall, Hermione couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun. She couldn’t ever imagine she would have fun with Lucius Malfoy. But he was witty and clever, something she hadn’t expected.

After the band began to play again, Lucius held out his hand. “Shall we?”

Hermione took his hand, letting him lead them out to the dance floor. More couples were dancing now. She enjoyed the way his hand felt in hers—warm, firm, and large. It made her mind wonder what other parts of him were warm, firm, and large. The hand on her back held her at a respectable distance, but she longed to reduce it. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath as he twirled her around the floor. She needed her libido to calm down. Clearly, Lucius was just being kind and perhaps latched on to her as the first person he recognised. She hadn’t seen Draco, but maybe he was running late to the gala.

At least she was assured from Ginny that Ron wouldn’t be in attendance tonight. Apparently his new girlfriend wasn’t ‘into galas.’ Whatever that meant.

After their turn on the dance floor, Lucius relinquished her into the company of Harry and Ginny, who had just arrived.

“Bloody Lily,” Ginny groused, flattening her hair with her hands. “Hogged _my_ bathroom all night for her date.”

“Which reminds me we need to leave prior to her curfew,” Harry added. Hermione hid a smirk behind her drink at Harry’s display of overprotectiveness.

“How is Lucius these days?” Harry asked. His green eyes were bright with something like mischief as he looked her over.

“Much more well-mannered than he used to be,” Hermione replied with a twitch of her lips.

“Good,” Ginny replied. “Although he’s still a Malfoy.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Mmm, a good looking one though. Much less pointy than his son,” Hermione commented absentmindedly as she watched Lucius from across the room. He was engaged in an animated discussion with Minister Shacklebolt.

“What?” Ginny asked, staring at her as if she had two heads.

“What?” Hermione replied, finally turning her attention back to her friends to see them both staring at her with their mouths open. “Oh, come on! I haven’t had sex in two years! I can’t help it if he looks good enough to eat.”

“I’m out,” Harry replied, finishing the rest of his drink in one swallow. “No girl talk for me tonight.” He leaned in, giving Ginny a kiss on her cheek. Ginny patted his hand as he wandered away from their table.

“Spill,” Ginny demanded.

“We arrived at the same time,” Hermione said, letting out a slow breath. “And well, we chatted for a while. He’s very engaging. Then we danced for a bit.”

“All that before we got here?” Ginny asked.

Hermione shrugged and stole another glance at Lucius to find him watching her. Her breath caught in her chest as he tilted the corners of his lips up just slightly and gave her a small nod. She returned the gesture.

“Oh my gods! You just eye-fucked him, didn’t you?” Ginny demanded, her head swinging back and forth between the two of them.

Hermione laughed. “It wasn’t an eye-fuck. Just acknowledging each other, is all.”

“Is he your date?” she tilted her head to the side as she studied Lucius too.

“It felt like one earlier,” Hermione agreed. “Although, it wasn’t something we prearranged. It was happenstance.”

“I will concede that he looks good for someone my father’s age,” Ginny said.

“Oh, okay, do _not_ remind me of that,” Hermione replied. Lucius was only a few years younger than Arthur but the two men might as well live on different planets. Ginny snickered at her response.

“So, are you planning to hit it?” Ginny asked.

“Hit it?” Hermione looked at her bewildered.

“Yeah, you going to boogie down, shag Lucius? Let your freak flag fly?”

“Oh my gods, how much have you had to drink?” Hermione demanded while valiantly trying to hide a smirk.

“Enough,” Ginny responded. “Ooo, look here he comes!”

She was right, in the time that Ginny had occupied her with conversation, Lucius ended his with Minister Shacklebolt and headed their way. Hermione took a deep breath to compose herself. She hadn’t been nervous until she spoke with Ginny, damn her.

“Mrs Potter,” Lucius bowed slightly to Ginny. She lifted an eyebrow and made an approving face at Hermione before turning her attention back to Lucius once more.

“Mr Malfoy,” Ginny said imperiously. She lifted her chin and sailed by him off to find Harry without even a word in Hermione’s direction. Hermione glared after her friend until Lucius caught her attention once more.

“She doesn’t like me much, does she?” he asked, following Hermione’s gaze.

Hermione coughed, covering a laugh. “You did put Tom Riddle’s journal in her cauldron all those years ago.”

Lucius winced. “I should probably apologise for that.”

“She’d appreciate that,” Hermione agreed, turning to face him. He really was extraordinary to look at with his ice-blue eyes and his perfectly-styled long blond hair. He had it tied back in a long queue that hung past his broad shoulders. She wondered idly if he had a spell to keep the blond hair from shedding over the black robes he always wore.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her.

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s not important.”

“Would you like to get out of here?” he asked, suddenly. His hand reached up and smoothed a stray curl away from her face. It lingered near her hair and suddenly she desperately wanted to know what it felt like to have his fingers fisted in her hair.

“Yes,” she answered rather breathlessly.

His eyes grew dark as she licked her lips. Abruptly, he dropped the hand near her hair and offered her his arm. She took it and he led her out of Hogwarts entirely. The thestral-drawn carriages were waiting to take people to the front gates so they could Apparate away or Floo from the Three Broomsticks. Lucius lifted her up into the first one in line and within moments they were making their way through Hogwarts grounds. He settled next to her on the bench, his thigh pressed against hers in promise of what was to come.

“You look stunning this evening,” he said, “I don’t think I said earlier, but it’s all I can think about.” He trailed a finger over her knee as he spoke.

Hermione smiled slightly at him. He seemed a little unnerved. “You look quite good as well,” she replied softly, placing her hand on his thigh. He drew in a sharp, quick inhale and then covered her hand with his own, squeezing her fingers.

The moment they were outside of Hogwarts gates, Lucius turned to her. “Yours or mine?”

“Mine doesn’t involve international travel,” Hermione replied simply. Lucius nodded. She wrapped her arms around his middle and twisted to her left, Apparating them away to her flat in Diagon Alley. They landed smoothly in her living room.

No sooner had the world stopped spinning around them was Lucius’s mouth on hers. His lips were warm and insistent as his tongue tapped against her bottom lip. She opened to him and moaned when his tongue slid alongside hers. Her nipples pebbled in response and he hauled her impossibly closer to him. One hand reached down to cup her bum, the other the nape of her neck as he directed the kiss. Hermione had no idea how much she needed to be ravished until Lucius was already in the midst of it.

Somehow, he got her dress unzipped without her noticing and was now kissing along her collarbone, pushing her dress from her shoulders as he went.

“Bedroom,” she panted just before he reached the edge of her bra.

Humming his agreement, he looked up at her with a questioning eye. She grabbed his hand and led him down the hall and to her bedroom at the back of the flat. Lucius kicked the door closed behind him and proceeded to push her dress to the floor so that it pooled at her feet.

“Bloody gorgeous,” he murmured, running a finger along her bra strap. Her underwear wasn’t anything too special, as she hadn’t actually expected to be going home with anyone—despite all her talk—but it was serviceable enough. She wasn’t a young woman anymore and her stomach was pudgier than it had been before she had kids, but Lucius didn’t seem to mind.

While he ran his hands down her arms, studying her, she pushed his heavy robes from his shoulders and then started in on his jacket and the shirt beneath. He helped her by taking off his cufflinks and dropping them in his trousers pocket. When he was shirtless before her, she ran her hands down his chest. He was still very fit for a man his age, and Hermione liked the smattering of grey chest hair he had. She ran her fingers through it and circled his neck with her arms, bringing him down for another kiss. He backed her up to the bed, and when the mattress hit her knees, she fell with a small grunt.

Lucius grinned at her as she scooted back, climbing over her. He covered her body with his and she luxuriated in his heat for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of his skin. She ran her hands across his shoulders and down his back as he kissed her again with a driving need, and she found herself arching her back, wanting, needing more from him.

He dragged his kisses lower, over her collarbone again, along the edge of her bra. Then he pulled the cups down and exposed her nipples. A lick had her panting; when he brought one into his mouth to suck, she cried out.

“I need you,” she told him as he moved even lower, pulling her knickers along the way.

“Patience is a virtue,” he reminded her. He was kneeling between her legs now and picked one up, placing a kiss on her ankle bone. He placed another behind her knee and another on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, before doing the same with the other leg. Hermione was overwhelmed with the care he was taking with her person. She couldn’t help but to compare him to Ron, who was much more of the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ variety. Ron had loved her at the beginning of their marriage, she knew, but even that was nothing like this with Lucius. It was all hard and fast. Enjoyable, but this? This was pleasurable—hedonistic—this felt like how a man cared for a woman.

Finally—finally—he made his way to her center and placed a kiss over her clit. She whimpered in response, bucking her hips involuntarily. He wrapped his arms around the tops of her thighs, holding her steady as he began feasting on her cunt. It was almost more than Hermione could take, she couldn’t recall the last time Ron had gone down on her—probably not in years and years. She found she was overly sensitive to it.

He licked and licked and _licked_. Swirling his tongue around her clit, driving her higher and higher. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he drove two fingers inside her. She bucked hard as she cried out his name and came. The orgasm rushing over her, pulling her under like a wave from the ocean. Lucius cleaned her up and then moved to hover over her.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her lips against his in a fierce kiss. Then she hooked her leg over his hips and pushed him to the side so he was lying beneath her. He sucked in a breath as she settled her wet, warm core over the placard of his trousers. His cock was painfully hard beneath her.

Hermione rocked her hips and he gripped them in his hands and flexed into her. Grunting, she began pushing the buttons of his placard through the loops and sat up enough to push them down his thighs. He helped her and soon it was just his straining cock between them. She dragged her wet cunt across the length of him making Lucius toss his head back in a low groan, his fingers flexing against her hips.

She bit her lip as she balanced herself on top of him. Her hands were on his solid chest. She felt powerful, more powerful than she had felt in a very long time. She knelt up just enough to be able to slide down onto his cock, burying him inside of her.

“Hermione,” Lucius choked out as she came to a rest on top of him. She hadn’t budged for a long moment. “Move,” he demanded.

“Patience is a virtue,” she reminded him with a small smirk. She slid her hands up his chest until she had them pressed to the bed beside his head and lowered her chest to his. Then she began to rock her hips, letting his cock hit that very delicious spot inside her that made her weak-kneed and seeing stars.

Lucius’s hands roamed to her arse as he helped her thrust. Leaning forward he kissed her, his tongue mimicking their movements below. She had already had an orgasm, this was all for him, but that didn’t mean it didn’t feel good. It felt fucking incredible. She didn’t want to be thinking about Ron, but she couldn’t help to compare the two. Sex with Ron had never felt like this. She felt alive like there was electricity running through her veins.

Her second orgasm took her by surprise, but judging by Lucius’s face, he was waiting for it. The feeling of floating in an ocean of bliss came back and she welcomed it. Two orgasms in one day was a blessing indeed. The moment she came down, Lucius flipped them once more. He threw one of her legs over his shoulder and pounded into her. He came with a low grunt in her ear after a few moments and dropped his head to her collarbone. Slowly, he lowered her leg, rolling off of her.

She turned to her side and threw an arm over his stomach.

“Are you a cuddler, then?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Hermione yawned. “The biggest, so get used to it.”

Lucius did laugh then, and turned toward her, placing his own arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She buried her nose in the middle of his chest and sighed as sleep fell over her.

* * *

_Two Years Later_

Lucius placed the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ he was reading on the table and looked up at her, just as she was getting ready to sit down with her morning cup of tea.

“Well, what is it?” he asked, sounding irritated. Hermione frowned. What could he possibly be irritated about?

“What is what?” she asked. She had no idea what he was talking about, and it didn’t help that she hadn’t even taken her first sip of her tea yet.

“Your favour,” he said, still sounding irritable. Hermione was more lost than ever.

She shook her head. “You’ll have to elaborate, dear. I’m not sure I recall what you’re talking about.”

“The bet from the Hogwarts gala two years ago,” he replied, looking down his nose imperiously at her. “Apparently there hasn’t been a goblin war, so you win.”

A lightbulb went off in Hermione’s mind and she tossed her head back in a laugh. “Oh, and you so hate to lose, don’t you?”

“You know I do,” he grunted. “So tell me, what is the favour?”

Hermione had forgotten about the bet, she didn’t have a favour lined up at all. But after two years of seeing Lucius, she knew what she wanted the favour to be. Technically, by their terms he couldn’t refuse, and she hoped that he wouldn’t.

She stood up and dropped herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He placed his hands on her hips. From this distance, she could see the twinkle in his eye that meant he wasn’t nearly as irritated as he sounded.

“Well, a legal favour is a big deal,” Hermione said as she trailed her fingers over his shoulder. “I would like to make our arrangement more permanent. That’s the favour.” She met his eyes, but he wasn’t giving anything away now.

When he didn’t say anything, just studied her, she started to get nervous. She knew Lucius, they had fun together, she didn’t think this was such a big ask, but maybe to him it was? Maybe after Narcissa’s death he never wanted to get married again. All her old anxieties came rushing back.

“I mean, our agreement wasn’t binding in any way,” she said with a little laugh, her eyes slipping from his to stare at his Adam’s apple. “If you don’t want to, of course you don’t have to. I can think of something else. Or we can forget the bet entirely—”

“Hermione,” Lucius broke in, tilting her chin up with one finger. “I was only wondering how in the bloody hell I am so lucky. Of course, I’ll marry you.” He didn’t give her a chance to answer, instead he pressed his lips to hers and pulled her impossibly closer.

_**~Fin~** _


End file.
